Author Information
Industrial Church
I had high hopes for the industrial church
in its acute, specific, exceedingly tasteful display.
It was well-lit and demanding of the eye
and without a chime, it stood, reeking of wrought iron.
Passers-by were on their way to sin,
unheeded by the stone and shrapnel monolith;
as if unseen and unnoticed by the common
man and woman, constantly holding hands.
A procession of chants would be a fitting touch
in order to condemn and to contain,
but without a proper order, who are we to say
what governs the holiest of hymns?
